Sorry the reply is so long: Stayed up for 5-6 days on heroin coke and crack. At the time I was professional addict. I'd hit a bank grab a whore and a hotel room or flop house room party till I couldn't anymore and then hit another hotel by myself and sleep a few days then a homeless shelter thinking I'm slick who robs banks and sleeps in a shelter, right? I was in DC and found one of my friends and went to a joint that was $20/3 hrs or $40 a night and started partying. I would usually slide her $500 at the beginning so when it ended she didn't have to go back to work right away and I'd stash $300-500 to get me by while I semi sobered up to get back to work. Well this was day 5 maybe 6 but I think 5 I'm starting to lose it. I know I need to sleep and sleep soon. I'm starting to yell at my whore to make the bed blah blah blah and I see myself losing it but can't shut my mouth. Usually I treat my ho's like queens and they take care of me between jobs when it's hot out so she knew I was starting to wig out. We both hadn't ate in days and I was hungry enough that I wanted to leave the room and head across the street to a carry out and get us some food. She looked at me and said "you aint going anywhere your are mess you'll be picked up for sure I'll go". (She was a trooper has been up as long as I had and could probably go another day easy) so she tells me as she's leaving not, to leave the room to wait right here and she left. Now this is not a hotel room as your used too. This is a room in a 3 story Federalist style townhouse that are all over DC I'm on the top floor. There are 3 of these townhouses in a row where they opened up the walls between each building so you can walk through one to the other. The room itself has a sink, a chair, a bed and a chest of drawers no carpet no tv nothing that's it. It exist for hookers pulling tricks and junkies getting high and in the day, 1998 the police did not care, at least you were off the street. She shut the door and I lit a cigarette and sat in the chair smoking. The room went from painted white drywall to grey concrete walls. The AC/heat vent missing the grill turned into a small tv monitor. Just like that I thought, no I believed, I was sitting in a room somewhere inside a DC metro rail (subway) station. Well everybody knows it's against the law to smoke on the metro or in the station. I started to freak, the police are going to drag me away, I got to get out of here now. I grabbed my bag and stumbled into the hall. I was going around in a circle (they put 2 openings in each wall separating the buildings) not able to find the steps downstairs, never crossed my mind that you usually go up not down inside a subway, I panicked. I found a door that led outside but it wouldn't open (led to what was once the fire escape now completely missing just a door 35 feet up in the air) I was yanking on the door yelling help me get me out of here! I was in full hallucinations stage meltdown. The guy in the room across from mine steps out and ask if I'm ok and gets me away from the door. I tell him I gotta get out of here now can you help me. He laughs and says sure if that what you really want and leads me down two flights of stairs to the front entrance opens it for me and tells me to be cool. I've escaped TG I'm freaking out thinking the metro police are on their way to scoop me up. I head to the street 14th St and look for my escape and see a bus stop, oh that's it and walk 200 feet and sit down inside i. As I sit I hear a siren sounding it's way towards me and panic inside myself quietly. I then look back in the direction I came from and can't see the metro station, what the hell happened to the metro station? A bus comes I can't believe I actually have a $1.00 bill to ride it with but I do. I climb on and sit in the front area seats that run horizontal of the aisle. The bus is filled and it gets real quiet. I start to look around to see why. I'm the only white guy on the bus it's about 2:00-2:30 Friday afternoon. Why's it so quiet all of sudden and why is everyone looking at me (they really were) then one guy shouts out at me, you are the highest white boy I've ever seen, and the whole bus breaks out laughing at me. I'm in total lala land doing everything I can to hold it together. Within 15 minutes we are in the middle of downtown DC where I get off at 14 Th and K at the busiest intersection of all DC. I've got my bag with me and have several bottles of liquor that I now have to get rid of (don't ask me why) I come up with the brilliant idea to put them into the bottom of the newspaper vending machines out on the street the free paper boxes. I'm 20 feet from the intersection corner broad daylight placing nearly full fifths of top shelf liquor into them as car after car stare at me as they pass by. I was messed up mentally and physically. My arm was swollen up from the 250+ shots of dope and coke I've done in the last week. I needed to go to the hospital. It was about 2-2.5 miles away 1/2 hour walk. It took me a day and a half and 3 EMS checks to get there. I would just start walking the streets I've walk and drove for years totally lost and unable to get my bearings. I was so beat I'd sit down and I'd pass out only to be awaken by EMS responding to a man down call. 3 times and not once did they offer me a ride to the hospital and I was to paranoid to ask. Sunday morning about 9am I finally found the hospital. I walked into the ER and they took one look at me put me in a wheelchair and rolled me to a room without even getting my info first. I was in there for a whole week. I was released healthy and strong,
arm normal size felt pretty good. I spent the next few days telling anyone that would listen about the small hotel like rooms that were located inside each metro station. I was amazed I didn't know about them before now and nobody else knew they were there. I even told my methadone counselor (poor guy) about them. I was heading back to my shelter circuit since I was starting to get that urge again and as I headed to my bunk a guy calls out to me hey man how you doing. Who is this guy how do I know him? He calls again and says it looks like you made it out. What, what the hell is he talking about. You don't remember me do you? I'm the guy that helped you get out of the flophouse (it had a formal name but don't remember) it hit me like a brick I realized in that second that I wasn't inside a metro station but in that two bit hotel. OMG I really believed I was inside the metro fighting my way out of it, telling friends of my adventure and it was all one big hallucination. Ive never stayed up that many days in a row again. I finally got busted and did a little over a decade in prison where I did the best heroin and believe it or not some of the best cheapest cocaine I've ever got. After the first 4 years I realized that I was doing and being the same idiot I was on the street and if I didn't quit I'd get locked up again and never get out. So I took Nancy's advice and just said no. It actually worked. I got out and have stayed out of trouble and was clean first 4 years so I had over 10 clean then picked up again, I love dope/coke/speed always have always will. What I don't love is being desperate enough to run up in a bank not caring if you get caught because you were about to get a boatlload of money or get busted and forced clean either was a winner. Now I enjoy an altered state here and there and able to wake up feeling good. The mind is an amazing thing.